The road to Notch Hill
We usually drive far more highways than we do roads. Roads are intimate and local. Roads meander. Roads pause for things. They run under deep
We usually drive far more highways than we do roads. Roads are intimate and local. Roads meander. Roads pause for things. They run under deep
This article first appeared in the April 2014 issue of the Anglican Journal. You are exhausted and surrounded by an almost palpable fear. You feel
Suppertime in the residence, the corridors relatively quiet. This is the hour between the coming and going of visitors. The staff are under less pressure;
Over the last few years, we have gotten to know and respect one another. I think — and certainly hope — that this has become
The word “Christmas” is more than a mere word. In the world of music, a chord is composed of notes, but it is infinitely richer
Not that many years ago (says he defensively), I was assembling some material for a pilgrimage I had been asked to lead. I had decided
A tiny incident — a snatch of conversation heard in a city restaurant across an adjoining table. It’s a spot in which you see a
A friend told me that his son, who works with the United Nations in the Middle East, is frequently asked, “Where do you pray,” meaning
Some things can be told only as a story. Someone offers a story and we listen. But we know it is pointless to ask questions
The study window looks out on our front garden. Our kitchen window looks out on our back garden. Each one gives us a view of
In flippant phrases such as “there’s no free lunch,” we acknowledge a deep truth about life: everything has a cost. We could add that the
It is fascinating to see how many of the therapies of our time have much in common, though their language seems to differ. For instance,
For one enchanted evening a very long time ago, I was one of the Magi — a wise man. My black moustache and beard were
I recall reading somewhere that something we take totally for granted about the human mind is in fact one of its most remarkable accomplishments. It
William Blake once wrote that it would be wonderful “to hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.” Many years
The official publication of the Anglican diocese of Islands and Inlets, Faith Tides is a space where people of faith and doubt can share their stories, challenge their perceptions, and grow together.
We acknowledge that for thousands of years the Coast Salish, Nuu-chah-nulth, and Kwakwaka’wakw peoples have walked gently on the unceded territories where we now live, work, worship, and play. We seek a new relationship with the First Peoples here, one based in honour and respect.
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